“Didn’t mean to what?” he interrupted.
I could do nothing but stare at him blankly, mouth slightly parted. Annoyed by my silence, he continued.
“What, cat got your tongue? Face to face with the monster, and now you’ve lost your courage.”
His face was masked with anger, but it was more than that. As I gaped at the angry man in front of me, I could see the underlying hurt in his eyes.
“No!” I finally managed to get out. “That’s not it at all,” I implored.
He turned his head, refusing to look at me. Without thinking, I stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest. “I came up here…” my words caught in my throat as he looked down at the hand on his chest derisively, and then pointedly looked at me again.
“I’m sorry,” I said removing my hand as if I touched a hot plate. I backed up a step to give him some room. “I came up here to apologize. I hadn’t meant to hurt your feelings earlier.” I hesitated looking for the right words to say, “It’s just that seeing you…it caught me off guard.”
I waited expectantly for him to say something. But he just stood there. He looked so indifferent. I didn’t recognize this cold man before me. We used to be able to laugh and joke. We had been close once, or at least I had thought we had been.
The silence stretched awkwardly between us. Finally, he arched an eyebrow and uncrossed his arms, giving a slight nod.
“Fine, are we done here?”
I jerked back as if I was punched in the gut at the sharpness of his words. I felt my fiery temper bubbling up to the surface, throwing my hands up in futility, “Fine, be an ass about it. Screw the apology.” I spun around to storm out of his room, but his fingers curled around my arm and he spun me back around to face him.
His face was mere inches from mine, his eyes cold and hard, and the warmth that used to live in those eyes, evaporated like rain drops on hot concrete. But honestly what did I expect, the same man that left here eight years ago, to just return as if nothing had happened?
“You don’t get to storm off in a huff, just because I don’t fall for your fake-ass apology, half-naked or not!”
He sneered as he looked me up and down in a manner that had the hair on the back of my neck standing up in warning, and in anticipation of what he’d do next. His eyes lingered on the too-short hemline of my sleep shirt that I realized barely covered the tops of my thighs, then traveled up to rest on my breasts. My nipples hardened under his direct gaze, and he smirked. I don’t know what had possessed me to confront him without throwing on my robe first. I felt vulnerable and aroused at the same time. And, I didn’t like it.
Yanking my arm from his grip, I wrapped my arms around myself, trying in vain to cover up. “You are…you are so…vile,” I spit out. “You disgust me.”
“There,” he said stabbing a finger at me. “Now that is something I actually believe,” he said shaking his head, “You stand there on your high horse, judging me for the way I look and where I’ve been, you who have known me better than anyone else other than Jaime. You have a lot of nerve.”
For a moment, I completely forgot the reason for my anger as I stood there, mouth open gaping like a fish. The preposterousness of his words was just so shocking; it left me speechless, but only for a moment.
I thumped my finger right back in his chest, pushing forward, forcing him back with the ferocity of my words, “Well isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black, you hypocritical bastard!”
Now it was his turn to stand there gaping at me. I didn’t think that he had ever seen me get this mad before, but I wasn’t the shy teenager anymore. All the years of bullying and being teased for being fat, I finally learned to love myself and stand up for myself.
Gesturing towards his bare chest and my own state of dress, I scoffed at him, “I seem to recall a similar situation eight years ago.”
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t speak a word.
“Yeah,” I spat glaring, “Or are you pretending to forget that you kissed the fat girl. Well, I’m not the same chubby fan-girl I was back then.” Placing my hands on my hips, I continued to dress him down. “I cared what you thought of me then, but I don’t care what you think of me now. I was too much for you then, and I’d be too much for you now. So go fuck yourself.”
Turning around with a huff, ponytail swinging, I once again turned to leave. I made it to the door and began to pull it open when a strong arm shot out in front of me and closed it.
“Let me out,” I demanded through gritted teeth.
I felt his body press against mine as he placed his other arm on the door, effectively blocking me in. The heat of his chest seeped through the thin cotton of my t-shirt. His hard body pressed against my ass, making me very aware of what he was feeling. I had no choice but to turn around and face him.
“What?” I demanded with far more bravado than I felt. Turning around to face him I ground out, “Let me go!”
“Not until you hear what I have to say,” he said his blue eyes darkened with intensity. “I didn’t leave you alone because of your size; I left you alone because I was a jackass, who lived for the moment, and didn’t believe in strings. And you sweetheart, was the strings-attached-and-all kind of woman.”
“Well you were wrong,” I said flatly, but it wasn’t true. Back then it mattered, I wanted it all, but was willing to settle for less, and even the little I would have accepted was out of my reach.
“Was I? You wanted to be fucked the first time you spied on me, and when we finally did get all hanky-panky you wanted more,” he smirked.
“You flatter yourself, you were just a guy, and it didn’t matter to me as much as you may have thought.”
“Keep telling yourself that, and how about now, are you still the strings-attached type?” he whispered in a husky tone.
Even though my brain told me I shouldn’t want this, my body was already reacting to him. Just like it always had.
“I’m not any type…” I started.
“Everyone is a type, you’re just in denial, and right now your body is responding to my closeness.”
I turned my face away from his and mumbled, “You’re making assumptions.”
“Your body says otherwise,” he grinned as a stroked the side of my cheek with the back of his hand.
Heat flooded me, as my pulse picked up, and my breathing became quick and shallow. This close, face to face, his sex appeal was undeniable. He was looking at me with such possession in his eyes. Even the scar made him hot. My lips parted on their own volition, and he took full advantage. Without giving me a chance, his mouth covered mine aggressively. One hand cupped my chin gently while the other fisted in my hair, firmly locking me in place. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. And right now, I didn’t want to. I matched him stroke for stroke as his mouth plundered mine and his tongue delved into the recesses of my mouth. Our tongues battled for dominance, teeth biting and nipping as our lips kissed and sucked. This wasn’t a kiss, this was war, bloodthirsty, brutal, and oh so arousing. I’d never been kissed like this before, but I had no fear. From somewhere deep down my inner minx reared its head, and I wanted more.
His one hand wandered from my chin to my hip and slid up my shirt to cup the underside of my breasts, and I gasped throwing my head back. Taking advantage of my exposed throat I felt his mouth and tongue on my throat, sucking, licking, tasting as his deft fingers teased and pinched my nipple into a taut hard bud.
He pressed his hips against mine, his erection pressing against the heat between my thighs that was already beginning to pool in my panties. This was getting out of hand and fast, but I didn’t know how to stop it. Strong hands slid to my waist and lifted me off the ground as if I were light as a feather. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his hips as his weight pressed me against the door. The tone in the room escalated to a feverish pitch as mouths, tongues, and hands collided. I gripped his shoulders as I clung to him. He let go with one hand and reached between us, tugging my panties asid
e, and then I felt the tip of his cock press against my swollen entrance already damp with desire.
“Tell me to stop,” he groaned as he teased me.
“No…” My response was nothing but a murmur.
“Then I’m going to fuck you now baby. Hard.”
But still he waited, almost hesitating; I could feel his engorged fat head pressing against my clit. I whimpered with anticipation as he pushed in a bit further, wedging his thick tip right into the mouth of my entrance.
“Damn, you’re tight as fuck,” he grunted, as he buried his face in the crook of my neck.
I wrapped my arms around his neck as I felt him pushing deep into me with long hard strokes. His sheer size stretching me beyond anything I had experienced before. But instead of pain, I felt immense pleasure as I felt my walls clench his hard shaft.
This wasn’t the lovemaking fantasies I had envisioned as a teenager. This was carnal and savage, almost primal and it didn’t take long for my body to start tingling from the base of my skull down my spine to my toes. Each relentless thrust pushing me closer to the edge, and from the way Jason had dug his fingers into my ass cheeks, he wasn’t far from his release either. Whether it was the long dry spell of having no sex, or the fact that it was Jason, was yet to be determined. All I knew was that I was done for, and so was he. We both clung to each other as shockwaves of pleasure rippled through our bodies, as if our bodies served as conduits. As his breathing slowed and I finally felt my limbs relax, he released my legs slowly, and I slid down the length of him. He didn’t let me go straight away, his hands were resting on my hips and I was leaning with my forehead against his chest, unable to string together coherent thought.
That was until the sound of Jaime’s door broke the silence. Instinctively we both held our breaths, and waited. Jason held up a finger in front of his own mouth and I nodded. The rustling sound of dragging slippers passed Jason’s door, and then we heard the light thudding of footsteps going down the stairs. Only then did we both let out a sigh of relief.
Oddly the heightened sexual tension was replaced by an awkward silence, neither of us daring to say what was really on our minds.
I placed my hands on his chest and pushed gently, “I should go.”
He dropped his hands from where they rested on my waist but didn’t step back. “Ally…” his expression troubled.
I held up one hand and just shook my head, I had to be realistic. He didn’t want strings, and he was practically sex starved. I was just an outlet. Don’t get me wrong, it was probably the best sex I’ve had in years, but it was just sex.
“Jason, I… I’m glad you’re back, but this can’t happen again.”
His face instantly dropped and a curtain of anger masked his earlier expression. He stepped back and deftly gestured towards the door, without any objection. I knew I should have said more, but somehow I didn’t think that anything I said at this point would change the way he felt about me. I tiptoed down the hallway, but when I heard the toilet flush, I knew Jaime had come back upstairs. Hoping the sound of the water flushing masked my steps I ran down the hall as quickly disappeared into my room.
It was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours before I heard the sound of her door click. Climbing into bed, I pressed my fingers to my swollen lips. Running my tongue over my top lip, I could still taste the hint of root beer that had lingered on his tongue. I knew this could never happen again, and that it was the right thing to do. But how could something so wrong, feel so right?
Jason
After the incident last night with Ally and my sister’s untimely interruption, it had taken me several hours to fall back asleep. Even when I did manage to fall asleep it was restlessly. I spent all night tossing and turning, and when I finally woke up and rolled over to see the clock on my nightstand it was already after 10 am, I wasn’t all that surprised. I hadn’t meant to sleep that long, but I also hadn’t planned on a midnight rendezvous with Ally.
Nevertheless, I didn’t have time to dwell on the whole debacle. Even though I had been released, I was still required to report to a parole officer. My original sentence had been 15 years; however, I had the option of being paroled after eight for good behavior, so my time spent in solitary and staying out of trouble paid off. Once released, I would be on probation for a year. Any violation and I would be sent back to prison for the remainder of my sentence. I didn’t want that. I couldn’t go back there. I would do whatever it took to keep from going back there.
I grabbed a quick shower and then headed downstairs. I was surprised to find Jaime at the kitchen table, text books spread out and huddled over a legal pad. She looked up from her books and smiled sheepishly.
“I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to let you sleep in or not, but I figured you needed it.”
I just shrugged, “it’s fine, I just have to call my parole officer by 11.”
She made a face at the mention of the parole officer but I just ignored it. Instead I focused on the books at the table. “What are studying?”
“I’ve got a chem lab quiz this afternoon. Just trying to make some quick notes I can study from. I should actually be heading out to meet up with my study group, but I wanted to see you before I left.”
My sister really made me proud, with everything she had to go through, she still found the drive to study. She wrote down couple more sentences and then began to pack up her books while I rummaged around in the fridge for stuff to make a sandwich. Pleased by the fact that the content in the fridge didn’t consist solely of diet food, I grinned, it was really good to be back home.
“I have classes all afternoon and then a shift at the bookstore so I won’t be home until 10. You’ll be okay by yourself right?” she asked her brow furrowing with concern.
I lifted my head up out of the fridge and just smiled as she came over.
“Yes, I think I can manage to occupy myself,” I said as I kissed her on the nose.
She crinkled her nose and rolled her eyes just like I thought she would.
“Fine, I won’t worry. See you later bro,” she hollered over her shoulder as she headed out the door.
I smiled to myself, enjoying the feeling of someone watching my back. It had been a long time since I had felt that. I quickly fixed two beefy sandwiches and poured a big glass of milk before grabbing the cordless phone. I was thankful that Jaime had kept the house phone, otherwise I would have had to find a payphone to make the call to my officer. I took the piece of paper out with his number and dialed. It rang three times before a woman’s voice answered.
“Malcolm Dunlevy’s office, how can I direct your call?”
“Um, yes hi, this is Jason Armstrong, I was told I needed to check in with Mr. Dunlevy within 24 hours of my release.”
I felt a little uneasy about how she might treat me but was pleasantly surprised when she maintained the polite and homey tone.
“Of course, one moment Mr. Armstrong and I will see if he is available.”
I was a bit taken back at being addressed as Mr. Armstrong. In prison I was referred to only as prisoner 57124, or monikers too vile to repeat. I was on hold for maybe 30 seconds before her voice came back on the line to let me know she was transferring me to him.
“Malcom Dunlevy,” answered a deep baritone voice.
“Yes sir, this is Jason Armstrong. I was released from Kenworth Prison yesterday and was told I needed to check in with you this morning.”
“Armstrong…. Armstrong…Arm,” he muttered more to himself. It sounded like he was shuffling papers on his desk looking for something. “Ah, yes here we are. Jason Armstrong. Voluntary manslaughter, sentenced to 15 years, paroled after eight.”
It was ugly to hear him rattle off the details so casually and not sure how else to respond, I replied with another, “Yes sir.”
“According to your parole requirements you are to check in with me within 24 hours, which you’ve already done. You are to continue to check in with me twice a month for the duration of your
probationary period which is 12 months.”
Most of what he was telling was not news to me. The day of my parole hearing, after it had been granted, the warden had gone over the details of my probation. But I let him list the details and acknowledged each one of them as he went.
“The final requirement is to be gainfully employed within two weeks’ time.”
This last one was news to me.
“Excuse me sir,” I interrupted. “Did you say two weeks’ time?
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Um, is that a new requirement, because the warden didn’t say anything to me about it after my parole hearing?”
I hated the uncertainty in my voice, but I had no idea how I was going to find a job in such a short amount of time. Not with my record and with Gladys Walters still a very prominent figure in the community even at her age.
“No, it’s a standard probationary requirement,” he answered curtly. “Is there a problem Mr. Armstrong?”
“No sir, it just caught me off guard. I am just not sure that I can find anyone in this town to hire me with my record sir.” I hated to admit it, but it was the truth, “It’s uh, complicated.”
His tone softened a bit, “I am aware of your situation and the prominence of the Walters family. I have spoken with several of the city councilors and they assured me that you wouldn’t receive any prejudice.”
I gave a derisive snort before I could stop myself. Quickly apologizing, “I’m sorry sir. I just hope you are right.”
“I’m confident there are people in this town who are willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
After a few more instructions, we agreed for me to contact him again in two weeks. I hung up, feeling far from confident. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle, and by no means did I expect life outside prison to be a walk in the park, but two weeks was ridiculous. If anything, the department could have assigned me to some sort of community service. But since my instructions were loud and clear, I had no choice. I was willing to do what it takes to stay out of prison and be there for Jamie. If I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to leave Ally either, but I tucked that thought away as soon as it came up.
Cowboy's Fake Fiancée: A Single Dad & A Virgin Romance Page 29
